I was stuck in a sad, dilapidated, once grand den of sin, across from a New York style “Italian” who had been an old friend of my fathers.  He’d called me in for a shipment.  I was dressed like a rather dapper young lady today, since Dad had always talked about me to this guy as his “little girl.”  “Dapper” can mean violently red right?
The man was rather pudgy.  I could have rolled him down the hallway.  I think he’d done bad things on this poor desk because it sagged funny in all the wrong places.  But this guy had a lot of friends in places where money wasn’t in the best of condition, but there was plenty of it.  Make a good impression on him, and any two-bit smuggler had it made in this sector.  I’m much better than two bit, and I was trying to look like I could maintain a decent smuggling business when Ishvala, who was playing the part of bad-ass bodyguard, suddenly giggled and hissed into his sleeve.  I gave my little buddy the eyebrow of “DUDE! Why here, why now?”  
To his defense, Ishka-kun held his own, merely shrugging and giving off the impression of “I’m crazy, buggar off.”
So, I leaned back over the desk to ask the first question my poor confused little mind could make less mocking.  "So, you're saying you want us to deliver... cookies? This reeks of honesty." This guy was supposed to be the Root of all things Bad.  How did he sink so low as to be shipping cookies?  Much as I love them, they are not bad-ass at all.
The old meatball shrugged. "Tough times. Not a lot of dishonest work these days. The multi-planetary economy is booming, most hallucinogens have already become legal, and this new Free Trade of Cocaine Act is killing my business, personally. We gotta’ pick up whatever we can, legal or otherwise, and what we got right now is 200,000 Oreos halves to be delivered to this filling plant on Soteria. Take it or leave it."
I sighed, almost silently.  "Fair enough. Cash in advance. Have your men deliver the goods to Iris. She's parked at Spaceport 7, next to the El Pollo Loco.”  Shut up the parking was free.  “Got my man Memet on board, he'll show 'em where to load the ... cookies." I might as well be smuggling pretty frilly pink things for how dangerous this job was.
Old Man Eats-A-Lot handed me more than my required price, maybe as an apology for this being so utterly LAME.  I could tell for Ishvala was bored out of his mind.  He hadn’t gotten to beat anyone about the head in over a week, but something told me he would be getting more than his fair share of violent goodness before long.
On our way back to the ship, Bard poofed out of Ishvala’s sleeve to hold hands with him as we meandered our way back to Iris.  I let myself be distracted by random bits of shiny things to avoid all the happiness and love oozing out of the two of them.  They’re cute, but I’m still me.  Have to maintain my image.  What of, I’m not sure, but I have to maintain it, damnit.
Later on, the three of us were being lazy around the galley while Edward discretely scrubbed the sink.  I was enjoying my dinner of White Russian’s and cookies while Ishvala cuddled with Bard while nursing a package of Miso soup.  Ishka-kun asked to light up the Sticks de Cancer, so I nodded, moody.  Something bad was about to go down…
"Where the hell'd he go, anyway?" Ishvala asked as something clicked in my head.  I felt my eyes go wide, and completely lost interest in my food, hearing my cookie make fast friends with the bottom of my glass but also hearing the sounds of fights, pain… seeing a sign for a crappy little bar downtown from here… seeing blood… Memet’s blood… this was not a happy vision of the Now.

"Spidey-sense tingling." I shot Ishvala and Bard a wide-eyed stare.. "Memet's in trouble, grab Julie - you'll need her." I grabbed my beast of a gun, the Rebel Blood, giving it a fresh load of ammo.  I ran like the Devil was trying to anal probe me, not caring that I was running way faster than anyone my size/age/species should.  I figured Bard would carry Ishvala, I love the little guy but his legs are TINY.
I didn’t notice the cold.  I didn’t notice the fact that I was scaring the ever loving hell out of everyone I passed, and I seriously didn’t notice how wet and slick the pavement was.  All I saw was where I had to go to save one very unhappy silver-haired man’s skinny ass.  The bar was just as crappy as I had seen it, and the guys beating the hell out of Memet suddenly didn’t deserve their current status of  “alive.”
My only reaction was to dive-tackle the nearest guy, quickly re-arrange his face (with more than a little help from Rebel Blood’s handle), and move on to the next unworthy bastard.  Time flew, slowed down, hopped, skipped, showed me what they wanted to do, what they were about to do, and kept me from harms way.  Thank Ra for being a complete Freak of Nurture.
Suddenly, I heard Julie sing, and somebody earned a nice face-shot from one very angry Ishvala.  I got the impression I had just missed a wonderful quote.
I heard the bar-crowd flee like I had lit them on fire.  I’m sure I looked a little like the Devil Herself, what with my red suit and my black leather gloves dripping with blood.
"No one takes anyone from me, and no one calls me whore. Now you know."  Ishvala announced to the known galaxy.  Good to know little brother, good to know.
Bard cleared his throat like he was scared of more violence, his innocence shining through this big, blond exterior.  What an odd man.  "He's alright, but he needs to be taken to Iris' med station, NOW." He stood, cradling Memet, "I'll take him, you guys meet me back at the ship."
In a flash of blue feathers and some of Mem-chan’s blood making a final escape to freedom, Bard was off towards Iris and I was standing there with one very depressed looking Ishvala.  I stood, fixing my suit and shaking some of the blood off of my gloved hands, trying to act nonchalant.  As willing as I am to defend what’s important to me, I still don’t like beating idiots.  Lobotomizing them maybe, but not beating them.